Page 22 of My Puckin' Luck
“Lots of mustard piled on top, please,” Nana tosses in after me as I hike up the steps. Passing by Saint, he holds his hand out to me to high five.
When I do, he catches it in his and won’t let go, pausing my progress. “Where are you off to?”
“The women are hungry and we must feast. So I’m off to find the nearest stand with meat on a stick.” I wink.
His grin grows across his face like he’s thinking dirty thoughts about that, exactly the response I figured I’d get from him. While that was fun, I continue on, but I feel him traipsing after me like he has a laser pointed at my back.
When I get into the concession line, I know he’s right there behind me, his hot breath feathering along my neck, he’s standing so close.
“If you want meat on a stick, all you have to do is ask,” he growls into my ear. My spine tingles at the nearness of him.
“And you’ll give it to me?” I tilt my head slightly his way, my half-lidded eyes soft and teasing.
“All night long, angel. Long and hard. But you have to do one thing for me first.”
“I don’t think we’re talking about corn dogs anymore.”
His hand tangles in my ponytail, lightly tugging my head back until his lips are hovering above mine. “Tell me what color bra and panty set you’re wearing?”
I lick my lips and give him what he wants. “Hot pink.”
“Good girl,” he growls and kisses me tenderly before releasing me.
My heart beats off the chart for him. Like his lips were laced with a drug, he’s intoxicated me, I spin on my heel and fall into his chest. He catches me, steadying me. “Whoa. Thank goodness you were here.”
“I’ll always catch you, angel.” That sounds too much like a promise, and I want desperately to believe the look of longing in his eyes.
Then his pocket chirps and buzzes, like a call coming into his phone, and in a flash that look morphs into something else, darkening his usual bright blue eyes.
“Sorry. I need to take this. Excuse me.” He darts away, bringing the phone to his ear. I figure it must be his mother, and turn back to the line to order the food.
The man does things to me I can’t even begin to comprehend. Maybe Nana and Misty are right. I should open up, let the magic work, and see if this leads anywhere. Could he be my forever-guy?
I’m still wary. If he completely ruins me and breaks my heart, I’ll blame it all on them. Then Nana will have to bake me at least a year of treats to make up for it.
11
TIME FLIES
SAINT
Smith,Ranger, Leo and I, along with a winger from our third line, Ridge, all meet with Duke after practice, crowding into his coach’s office.
“I’ll make this brief. You five have worked the hardest this week in practice. Ridge, you’ve stepped up, and I feel confident making you part of their first line at the game tomorrow night against the Henderson Hawks.” Relief spreads across the room. We all know we’ve made strides this week since Ridge joined with us after our other center got injured. “That’s not to say we don’t have more work to do. The way you play together is coming along, but I think this new line could gel more.”
“Gel? How so?” I cross my arms and ask.
“Like we used to, Saint. Get together, develop a rapport, trust each other’s instincts. That will all play out better on the ice.”
I snicker. “Well hell, dudes, coach has just given us a reason to party. Come to my place after practice for pizza and beer.” Everyone laughs.
“Saint, you know damn well what I mean. Now, get out of here, all of you. See you tomorrow.” Duke holds the door open for us. I’m the last to shuffle out, and he stops me from exiting with a hand to my chest. “Hey. Go easy on the partying withthem. They’re young and have a lot to learn. You know, this could be a good opportunity for you.”
“For what?”
“Work with these guys, and mentor them. How many more years are you going to be able to play? What’s next? I’ve long thought you could coach. In our league, many of us are looking for assistant coaches like you, with experience to back them up.”
I squint at him, certain he means well, and I respect the guy, but I don’t have to work. If I got injured tomorrow and couldn’t play, I’d be fine to live on the millions I have. Life would get boring real quick, though, sitting around doing nothing, so maybe he has a point. “Thanks. I’ll give it some thought. Say hi to Phoebe and your kids from me.” It’s only a passing comment.
